Penance is Winter Cold
by Shizuka no Taisho
Summary: Thor attempts to scheme a way back into Loki's good graces, the best way he knows how.
1. Chapter 1

_Just fyi, this is a direct tie in to my other ThorxLoki works, and I'd suggest reading them before moving on to this one. Also, I'll be definitely adding more onto this story, likely as a string of connected one shots all uploaded under this name, in chapter form. Yeah, it's going to be a full blown story. Shh. I'm trying not to let my mind realize this, 'cause I tend to balk at multi chapter things. Silly me. Also. Crossover story. Oh yes, this is going to be a thing. Do remember to comment at the end and tell me what you think's going to happen. ;) _

**_Disclaimer: Marvel and all that it owns don't belong to me. Disney has that pleasure. _**

When they had first been betrothed, there was a ceremonial exchange of gifts between he and Loki. It was tradition, and they were of the finest quality to be found in all the realms. Weapons and tomes, leather and beautifully cut jewels in casings of gold. From Jotunheim Loki had brought strange cloth that was light as air, but stronger than steel, and weapons of enchanted ice that would never melt. All of the gifts they exchanged were impressive, to be sure. Yet none were exceptionally…..sentimental. Thor certainly hadn't selected any of them with his future consort in mind, not truly. If Loki found any of them at all appealing, it was pure luck. Perhaps he'd enjoyed the glittering gold and emeralds, being so rare on his realm. Maybe he even found interest in the books. That wasn't enough. He deserved treasures that were not simply common luxuries, meaningless and contrived. Thor wanted to give Loki things he would enjoy. Things he'd appreciate. He wanted to give the prince a gift that would express how much he'd come to adore him. How much he respected him, and the skills Loki brought to their match. It was as he deserved.

The trick was, no matter what ideas Thor conjured up, none struck him as good enough. They were all too simple, too grand, or simply in poor choice for the diminutive Jotun. What use had he for weapons, when his magic served as both his sword and shield? Silks and jewels were lovely, but he was a prince. Thor's future consort. He had more than enough of both to fill his entire bedroom. And what little Thor knew of magic wasn't enough to help him select any rare tomes or scrolls that Loki might find useful. Besides, he spent more than enough time in the royal library as is. No…whatever he decided upon as gift to his intended, Thor would have to ensure that it was both useful, and appealing. He knew Loki valued both in his things. But what could he give him? What would possibly appeal to his future mate?

In truth, it took him far longer to dredge up an idea than he was comfortable admitting. Thor was no stranger to wooing, though his had always been lighthearted attempts, with no real intentions to commitment. And it was always some fair maiden who caught his eye. Where pretty baubles and fancy jewels would make their eyes light up, Loki's simply went flat as stone, always with a dispassionate expression. So Thor had to think long and hard on something befitting the beautiful Jotun. He devoured rumors and tales from the other realms for a chance at hearing of some new-found adventure that would deliver the results he desired. Pouring over news brought to him by advisers, sometimes his fellow warriors, he looked for any clue, however small. The experience was trying, and taxed his patience. Loki might have been pleased, had he known what Thor was up to. He always said patience and wisdom were just as powerful a weapon as anything carried into battle.

Perhaps he was right. Thor's patience served him well. There came news of a strange world far from their own; it wasn't connected to Yggdrasil, and had never been accessed before. It took a skilled sorcerer to walk between realms without the Bifrost alone, but that didn't deter him. Not when he heard of the prize awaiting him there. Rumors bespoke of a wicked creature with skin the color of freshly fallen snow who dwelt in the far north of her lands, terrorizing all who came in contact with her. Thor had heard that she was amassing an army of creatures even more foul and beastly than herself to help her conquer the lands for her own. Then she would rule as queen, feared and powerful, with none to stand in her way. He cared not for this knowledge. What he did care for was the legend herself. It was told that she was a powerful witch, with gifts surpassing all others. Surely such a creature would reap a fitting prize? If he could but find her, and slaughter her in battle….

This was the issue that troubled him. Thor would be doing that realm a favor by striking her down, surely. And perhaps in honor they might thank him with jewels and gold, whatever beauties they had to offer. One might appeal to Loki. The witch herself could possess something he valued! Did not those who practiced seidr have their useful baubles? It was risky though. Simply finding this strange realm would be enough of a challenge, if not nye impossible, and what if he managed it? He couldn't storm her doorway, demanding a duel. Experience was a grand teacher, and the prince knew well now to never underestimate an opponent, whether their talent be sword or spell. Unfortunately, this only served to strain his morale. If he went to this land, and he approached the witch, Thor would be all but walking in blind. He needed a plan of action. This couldn't fail. He wouldn't disappoint Loki, not again. Loki deserved a gift worthy of him, and difficulty be damned, he would have it. So swore Thor on his heart and crown.

A promise bound didn't make things any less challenging. Pleasing his consort to be was proving to be a daunting task, Thor thought with a heavy sigh, crossing his meaty forearms on the table, hidden away in a corner of the library. There were maps and rolls of parchment scattered across the glossy surface, littered with crude sketches and hastily scribbled out words that he'd written in an attempt to give his thoughts some structure. It was a poor plan. Battle strategy had never been a gift in his arsenal, nor had he ever cared, in the past. His strength and willpower served him well. But strength alone wouldn't help him with this task. If the rumors were true, and he was facing a true witch, then he suspected what he was up against, were she to possess a fraction of magic like Loki's. Thor remembered well how their bout had gone. Loki had been a storming tempest that roared his rage for all to hear, yet he calculated, striking blows that cut deep and burned with an icy chill. What if Thor's foe was the same?

Pride told him that he could handle her. Logic warily agreed, but warned him not to make the same mistake twice. Things had to progress smoothly. He had to triumph, lest shame forever cloud his relationship with his Jotun prince, already strained from his own idiocy. He'd insulted him, belittling his talents as a sorcerer be ignored in favor of poor hearted declarations of brawny strength for protection. This was his chance to make amends. Thor was going to prove to Loki that he valued him as a companion, and respected his gifts for the majesty that they were. He'd face the witch in combat as equal warriors. He'd defeat her, take what rewards he could and bestow them all upon the prince, until they found one suited to his might. Something was bound to catch his eye. Thor wouldn't stop until they found it. Even if the battle alone took days, weeks, he'd fight to the end and show his lessons well learned. Damn it all, Loki deserved that much. It was just….difficult. "So very difficult."

"What is?" The husky voice sent him jolting from his chair. His surprised roar did nothing to mask Loki's laughter, a cool smile set upon the thunderer as he stepped out from the shadows and took a seat on the chair arm, loincloth swishing about his calves, a cloak drawn about his shoulders and masking his bloodlines from view. "Steady yourself, Odinson. It's only me."

Only him. As if he held no special meaning. "Loki. What brings you here at this late hour? Should you not be resting?" Thor ignored the rapid beat of his heart and smiled warmly at his intended. There was strain between them still, for Loki didn't immediately return it, and appeared a touch miffed at his questions as well. Ever since their bout, he'd been more prim and reclusive than Thor was comfortable with. He missed the teasing and harmless insults Loki used to throw at him. He longed to see those scarlet eyes light up with laughter, pleasure, anything invoking his true mischievous nature. It pained him to know that this was his doing. "I…see the seamstresses have outfitted you with new garments." Beseeching, Thor grasped for any tendril of conversation, subtly trying to draw Loki's attention towards him, and away from the scrolls he could see crimson irises glancing towards. "You look lovely. Green suits you well, Loki, as always."

"And why should it not? Green is the color of warriors and kings. My heritage." Loki ignored his abashed expression and gestured towards the table. "What is all this? I never imagined you to be the studious sort." He reached for a bit of parchment. Thor panicked, stepping between Loki and the table and near causing an embarrassing collision with those fingers and his groin. Luckily they stopped before contact occurred. That was the last sort of thing he wanted on his mind.

"I'm not. It's battle strategies." He said the first thing that came to mind, and regretted it instantly. Loki would know he was lying. His talents with trickery made him almost omnipotent when it came to these sort of things, and Thor had never been a very good liar anyway. He could only hope that the prince would overlook this fault, and take his words at face value.

Loki had always done well when it came to doing the opposite of what he was meant to. "Do not mock me, Odinson. Only a simpleton would fall for such tricks. Asgard has no plans for battle, nor would you need to strategize if there were. It's hardly your style. You favor a more brutal approach." Truth, but it cut Thor to the core to hear Loki say it so bluntly. No doubt he thought that his approach to everything. He'd given the Jotun no reason to believe otherwise. Thor sighed, taking a step aside to allow him a full view of the scroll covered table. Now wasn't the most adequate time to start making changes, but it would have to do. Loki deserved to know the truth. And they could start with his plans, since he saw no way to escape explaining just what he was up to without potentially harming their already fractured relationship. Thor couldn't allow that to happen. So he let Loki look through the scrolls and various bits of parchment, the books on magic and ice, and he watched the curiosity unfold.

"By Ymir's pit, what are you up to?" Loki picked up a rough sketch of towering cliffs with a ravine carved through their center. One of those who had told Thor of the rumored witch had drawn him this, depicting where she was thought to dwell. They were daunting, if the size of them was to be given real world interpretation. "Thor?"

Ah, so they were back to this. Loki must crave answers, to set aside his stubborn indifference. He couldn't deny that it was a relief, however short and sweet. "They are plans." He carefully took the drawing from him and set it down on the table. Seeing the questions taking shape on Loki's lips, Thor held up a hand and pleaded silence. "Please. Let me explain. I know it appears that I've lost my senses, but there is a simple reasoning behind all this." He took a steadying breath and carried on. "There have been rumors reaching my ears of a world far from our own that is home to a witch of extraordinary power. I sought to find her, and make my way to the lands in which she dwells. Here, if the claims are right." Thor tapped the sketch, feeling the weight of scarlet orbs as they looked between him and the table. It made his disappointment all the greater. "I thought to defeat her in combat, and claim what treasures I could as boons, to beg for your forgiveness. But I feel now that this cause is fruitless. Without a way to reach this realm, my plans amount to nothing." He reached for the Jotun's cold hand and laced their fingers together, though met with stiff reluctance. "I'm sorry, Loki. I only wanted to please you, and prove that I've learned from my mistakes."

"Your mistakes." Thor kissed Loki's fingers and frowned nervously. Would his actions be thrown back in his face? "What do you mean…" understanding smoothed over those cobalt features like a trickle of water, washing away all sense of feeling or a hint as to what Loki was thinking beneath the cold front he put forth. "The fight," he murmured. "That's what this is about. I never would've imagined…my words must have strongly affected you, if you resorted to all this." His free hand gestured to the maddening display before them, and-there. Thor saw but a flash of it, but that was enough. Warmth. Whatever Loki thought of him, he'd at least garnered enough favor to make the prince smile. "You oaf. You were going to travel to an unfamiliar world and seek a fight with a witch, full well knowing nothing could come of it. What if she was poor, wretched, or had not a treasure to her name? What would you have done then?"

"Anything. I had to make you see that you were worth everything to me. Nothing in all the Nine realms could stop me from proving my admiration of your skills, and if that meant traveling to a dangerous, unexplored world threatened by a powerful witch, then so be it. You were worth that, Loki. And so much more." Resistance fleeing from the smaller figure, Thor felt no qualms at wrapping Loki in his arms, a large hand carding gently through the mass of hair hanging silkily down his back. "I never meant to hurt you, but I know now that that's precisely what I did. I never should have insulted your seidr, Loki. You're a powerful sorcerer, and I thought…." he shook his head with a wry smile. "I thought to prove my faith by defeating the witch in battle. Rumors bespoke of her power and strength. If she was but half as powerful as you, then she would have made a worthy foe. I'd have taken great pleasure in defeating her. The fight had great potential for glory. And whatever treasures she owned would have been yours." Thor had the decency to look sheepish, a soft kiss pressed to the highest crest of Loki's cheek. "I know little of magic, but I thought something she possessed could appeal to you."

"Because all practitioners must use the same tools to work their craft. Surely there's nothing to distinguish between us." Loki cupped his face and muffled his anxious denial with a kiss, one that had Thor's eyes near popping out of his head. "I jest, Thor. Your intentions were good, and it wasn't a poor idea. Whomever this witch is, she might have owned something of interest to me. A rare tome, or enchanted dagger. Something." Shrugging, he leaned away and smirked. "But I need no gifts from you. You've offered enough already."

So everyone else in Asgard likely thought. "What I've offered were paltry gifts, worth nothing to you," Thor argued. "What good are jewels and gold when we are princes? You can have all of the baubles you desire, without lifting a single finger. I wanted to give you something you could truly appreciate, Loki, if not use to further your magical talents. And who better to retrieve this than from another spell caster?" He pulled the small Jotun back into his arms and gently tilted his chin up, thumb brushing the curved lines etched across his cool flesh. "You deserve luxury, refinement. I can offer you these, but that's not enough. I wanted to show you that you are more to me than my intended Queen, and I adore you. Every part of you."

"Even my seidr?"

Perhaps he imagined it, but Thor could have sworn Loki sounded…hopeful. "Every part, Loki. I swear on my life." Casting a rueful grin to the table and its mess of parchment, he chuckled. "Had I but the opportunity, I'd continue forth with my plans and prove my devotion to you. Even if the witch possessed nothing of consequence, I would battle her in your name. Her magic, against my hammer."

"Is that your idea of a fair fight? To bash her skull in with your hammer?" Laughter bubbled in Loki's throat, thick and rich like a fine wine. "I suppose it makes sense. Your strength and brawn against whatever magic she possesses…..but first, you'd have to successfully find her, without getting yourself killed." He gave the thunderer an amused smile. "However did you plan to manage that? Fighting isn't the answer to everything, Thor. Have you even the slightest clue as to where this world lies? I assume it's not part of the Nine, else you would be gone already, charging forth with some half cocked plan."

It was irksome at times, the level to which Loki understood him. "You underestimate me, Loki," Thor grumbled, taking a seat at the table again and casting a few of the sketches aside. "I can be clever too, despite what you might believe." He was right though. Thor had no idea where this world lied, since it wasn't a part of Yggdrasil's branches, and therefore there was no conceivable way to reach it. Even after questioning those who shared the rumors, he was no closer to success. None knew where they hailed from, nor how to reach their birth place. Disappointing. He cast a grave look to one of the charcoal colored drawings, tension roped through every one of his muscles and wound tighter still when cool hands came to rest on his shoulder blades. "I've failed you." The silent again didn't need saying.

"How so? Because you have not the wits nor cunning to reach a realm so far from your own?" Soft chuckling brushed his ears, and those cold fingers he was so fond of lightly pressed into his tunic, working the flesh beneath with a talent Thor could never deny. "Oh Thor….blind, arrogant, sentimental Thor. What do you think of me, to strive for such ridiculous lengths? You needn't gift me with boons. I know you regret your foolhardy actions. You express much without speaking," Loki reached around and tapped a scruffy cheek. "Forget this other world, and its witch. I accept your actions for their intention, and thank you. It's a rare prize indeed, to have Asgard's prince so desperate to apologize."

Then Loki would forgive him, just like that. Thor's brow wrinkled with concern, and he caught the Jotun by the wrist, half pulling and half lifting him onto his lap with an infuriating lack of care for the scant piece of cloth barely masking Loki's privates from view. Now was not the time for boyish lusts, and primal hungers could come later. He would speak his mind, before the prince cast it beneath a veil of numbing trickery. It was a talent of his, the wicked silvertongue. "Apologies mean nothing, Loki. You have your words, but I am a man of action, and so action shall fuel my penance. I acted the fool that day, and I know I have much to atone for because of my refusal to understand you and your ways. You are Loki. I respect that, and I want nothing about you to change. But you must accept in turn that just as you are Loki, I am Thor." He caught those surprised lips in a slow, tender kiss midway through what would have surely been a persuasive argument, only stopping when they willingly parted atop his with no words, but preferable moans. Loki was easier to cajole when he was kissed senseless. "I don't deserve your trust. Not yet. But I would ask for your aide, if you may offer it."

The roots of mistrust were sprouting in those crimson depths. Thor watched them grow, only to be drowned as Loki placed a hand on his chest and shifted his weight to better rest on the firm thighs beneath him. "Name your request." He made himself comfortable with a smirk, tucking his cloak folds around him as fingers worked over the designs of Thor's armor. It was the most at ease he'd ever seen him. "If it's intriguing enough, I might consider granting it."

From Loki, that was practically a yes. Delight restrained, Thor wrapped his arms around him and basked in the pleasure of having the prince astride him, whatever perverse connotations others might have taken from the embrace. He was simply happy to have Loki with him, in whatever way he was most secure. "I won't stop until I make amends," he rumbled, nesting his mouth into the silky coil of black hair. "Nothing you say will change my mind. Even if I cannot slay the witch, there are other realms. Other battles to be found. If it takes me a thousand years to prove to you your worth in my eyes, I will endure them with humbleness, Loki. But I truly believe this is the best course, for us both. I feel it. Fate desires me to go there." The moment of truth. Thor covered Loki's throat with a bare hand and gently tilted his head back, laving kisses over the whorl patterned skin nearest his brow and the base of a gleaming horn. "Help me, Loki. Your magic is strong. Alone, I have no hope of finding this world, but with your assistance…"

"You wish me to help you with your plight?" Loki hummed. "Does that not defeat the purpose of atonement?"

"It might. But there is none other whom I trust more to aide me." He felt Loki's reaction more than anything else; a flutter against his palm, of heart beats racing like a frantic drum. "For the sake of my apology, I must be the one to slay the witch. The fight will be fair, her magic free from tethers. But I would have you and I journey there together, Loki, if it's at all possible." Hopeful for the first time since he'd concocted this mad scheme, Thor looked to his intended and smiled. "Is it?"

"Mm…." the repose was clear in how flesh was rubbed against his palm, Loki's eyes cast to the ceiling. He let Thor stroke and kiss him to his heart's content while he waited for a proper answer. It didn't take long. "You're a mad fool."

Thor kissed his temple. "Aye." He need say no more than that. Whatever the decision made, his mind would remain unchanged. One way or another, he'd make amends to the prince. It was up to Loki whether or not they made the journey together, possibilities allowing. Which, he noted with a bold smile, they clearly were. Nothing could make Loki look so otherwise gleeful. "Your thoughts roil, Loki. Come. Tell me of them." He watched sapphire digits close over a sketch and lift it for analysis, tracing the dark mountains with their smudged tips of coal, and blurry lines depicting rivers that would likely flow colder than the harshest winter. Did he see something within them? Thor thought yes, yes he did, and was proven right with the prince's thoughtful question.

"This world…..have your rumors given it a name? I'll need that much to work with, if we're to travel there sometime this millennium."

Indeed they would. Clutching Loki tighter to his chest, mind teeming with the plans and potential adventures they would share, he drew a forefinger across the page and drew it for both their eyes to see, the name foreign and odd as it passed from his lips. "They call it…Narnia." It tasted magical, like the fables of old he'd read as a child, before books were exchanged for sword and shield. Loki repeated the strange word and held it longer on his tongue, a wondrous expression on his face that Thor wished he could immortalize forever. Whatever feelings the odd name created, that no less decreased its potential. Thor knew not what this place would hold, but that adventure would come and open her arms to them both. And, were he lucky, this Narnia held the tools of his forgiveness nestled close to her breast.


	2. Chapter 2

_Bitches be going to Narnia. Oh yeah. And by bitches, I mean the resident Norse homos. They're gonna fuck some shit up, Thor's going to be his endearing, stupid self, Loki's going to cause chaos while being an utterly sneaky, untrustworthy bastard, and it should be glorious. I hope. I leave that for you readers to decide. Here's hoping! Do remember to leave some feedback, yeah? I appreciate it greatly. 3_

_**Disclaimer: Thor, Loki? Yeah, they aren't mine. Marvel owns them, at least the MCU and comic/tv/etc versions, and Disney owns that. Otherwise, that's mythology's glorious love child. As for Narnia and all it encompasses, also not mine. Seriously, that's kinda obvious. **_

"If you sought a clandestine approach, then I fear we are doomed to failure. Your footsteps are like those of a wild beast on a rampage to slake their unquenchable hungers. Could you not attempt to tread more softly? It's almost as if you've never hunted before." Lightly toned mockery filtered through his ears, muffled by the whirl of icy wind and the crunch of frost on stone beneath his feet. Thor grunted and paid it no mind, catching a mischievous grin from the corner of his eye. Of course Loki took amusement from this, the playful wretch. He had no fear of frostbite to weigh him down. But that was the least of Thor's worries. Failure was a far greater presence within his thoughts, clinging to the meat and bone as he trudged up the snow covered cliff side, Loki right on his heels. The prince's presence did soothe him, to an extent, but it also served as a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place. His own cursed shortcomings.

Thor had to prove himself, for both their sakes. Within his actions would be the evidence of his trust in Loki, and the respect he had for his magical abilities. He couldn't fail. He just…couldn't. Perhaps Thor had been forgiven for his transgressions, as Loki claimed, and part of him prayed that this was true. It gave him some peace of mind. Peace was a fickle mistress though, and he craved something more substantial. Actions spoke louder than words. He'd sworn to present a tangible show of penance as proof of his sincerity, both to himself and his intended, and by the Norns, he was going to do it. It was the whole reason he'd scoured the realms for clues and ideas, listening to every rumor that passed through the loose knit weave of gossip at court, and why the Jotun prince had helped him in his quest to breach the gap between the worlds and come here, the place he knew fate wished him to be.

"Narnia," Thor muttered, feeling a lash of cold whip his cheek. He wasn't certain how he knew, but this was where he'd find the key to his success. These mountains were his best chance. Things weren't any less difficult now though, despite their relatively smooth arrival. Clever Loki had found a portal to this world in the forests of Midgard, and it brought them here with relative ease. He should have known things would go sour after that. They were on the mountains his sketches had depicted, yes. But where was the witch? All he saw was snow, strange trees with green needles in lieu of proper leaves, and a dusty grey sky promising more of the miserable cold. It was hardly comforting.

"Need I remind you, this was your idea." Loki stepped up beside him gracefully, pulling the furred collar of his cloak away from his face. The snow didn't embitter him at all. He was in his element, and Thor freely admitted to himself that this was likely for the best. What good would it do them if they both suffered from the raging elements? "You might as well be an open book, Thor. I can practically hear your thoughts. They claw and scrape against the confines of your abnormally thick skull." Fingers that felt nearly warm in the frigid air brushed his vambraces, bypassing the metal and crimson belly to travel down to his knuckles. "Are you really so concerned? We've come this far. What left is there for you to do, but slay the witch and claim her treasures."

It wasn't going to be that simple. Thor knew that, and so did Loki, the teasing imp. "You think this won't be a challenge for me?" His foot crunched through a layer of snow and almost sent him careening down the way they'd came. Loki's hand was all that saved him from this embarrassment, latching onto his wrist and roughly tugging him forward with a strength that was surprising, given his smaller form. Then again, lots of things about him surprised Thor. He should be used to it by now. "You see? The mountain alone gives me trouble!" Lips twitched, threatening to smile. Thor glowered at the horned prince. "We can't all tread across the snow with elven grace, Loki. You have a natural affinity for this world."

By the Norns, he sounded like a sullen child. The amused expression Loki bore did no favors for his current petulant nature, and he grimaced at the sound of chuckling, blue fingers laced through his own to lead him higher up the sloping forest. "My affinity, as you say, is one of my borne talents. Would you deny your wits, whatever ones you possess, or your mighty strength? They are as much a part of you as my ability to walk across the snow without stumbling about like a drunken oaf."

"I don't stumble." Grunting, Thor gave the hand in his own a squeeze and carried onward. Loki's words were no more harmful than a wooden dagger in the hands of a child. There was a soft sting, almost immediately relieved by the warm feelings of adoration and care. With anyone else the taunting might have been cruel, but as always Loki treaded a line between humor and lovable mischief. He knew just how to spin his words. The skillful silvertongue. "If the snow doesn't cease, we may have to make camp. It would be unwise to wander through this realm at night, when its threats are unknown to us." The idea of being attacked by beasts and creatures should excite him. It didn't. Thor's only goal was to find the witch and defeat her in combat. Anything else was a deterrent, and what's more, he wasn't alone here. He had to think of Loki's safety above all else. Proving his intentions wasn't worth the risk of letting any harm come to his future consort, though Thor knew he was more than capable of protecting himself, if need be. He wanted to avoid unnecessary action. An odd mindset to keep, which didn't go unacknowledged.

"Whatever creatures come forth, I doubt they'd offer much trouble." A red stare turned his way, probing and thoughtful; whatever it saw, Loki took no time to question. "If we find nothing within the hour, we'll stop to rest for the night. There's no reason to throw ourselves in danger's clutches." Quiet footsteps fell in sync with his own and made an almost musical sound, Thor's heavier tread like a beating drum in comparison to Loki's whispering one. It was these sounds that followed them higher up the mountain and then disappeared with the land's flattened terrain. Wherever they were, there were no more cliffs to scale. Dense forest closed around them now, thick with shadows that clung to the trees and cast their rippling grey veils, deathly shrouds of silence and tarnished snowflakes, falling even heavier from the dark sky. It was a less than warming sight. Thor didn't hesitate to draw Loki closer to his side and wrap his cloak around him, though he needed not the extra warmth.

"The snow could bury us if we wait too long. Have you no spell to track the witch to her home?" The sooner they arrived, the better. He wanted to claim his prize and return to Asgard with a pleased Jotun on his arm. In all the Nine there couldn't be a happier man, if he but succeeded and proved to Loki how greatly he cared.

Winding his arm around Thor's waist, Loki contemplated the white coated trees. "I brought you to this world only because you were out of options, Thor, not from some misguided desire to help you. You know my opinion of this quest already. But it hardly matters. Without something of hers to use as a focal point, tracking her with seidr would be futile. We'll have better luck taking the hunter's approach." It was a long while before he spoke again. Or, at least, that's how it appeared to the thunderer. "I wonder…."

Like a fool, he questioned him. "What? Did you think of something?" Was there a way to make his task easier? …No. Thor saw quickly that this wasn't the case. Loki was breeching another topic for discussion, one he realized he wasn't going to like. "Loki…." growling a warning, he made to silence the Jotun as best as he could, with wayward kisses to his lips and jaw. But it didn't work. Loki stopped beneath a bower of glistening pine needles and clasped the front of his armor, warning flickers of icy green at his fingertips. The spell to immobilize him, if he thought it necessary. Thor could fight off the effects, and had once before, when they fought each other back in Asgard. Both of them possessed the memories, just as they both understood the delay would offer Loki what time he needed to say his peace. "Very well. Say what you will, and be quick about it. We don't have time to linger."

"We have all the time we need," Loki contradicted him. "You're the only one in a rush, Thor. It's your schemes that led us to this mountainside, and your sentimental nature that slow us down now. If we're going to continue forth, then I need you to be alert, you oaf. This….brooding?" He gestured to golden features, the shadows haunting Thor's vivid blue eyes. "Clearly I'm not the one who needs to speak his thoughts. I can see what lurks beneath the jovial mask you attempt to wear, and I grow tired of it. What is this sudden insecurity of yours? I never imagined you the fearful sort. You have ego enough to fill Asgard's treasury from ceiling to floor, yet in the face of the unknown you bemoan like a pampered child." Thor bared his teeth at the insult. Paying no mind, Loki rubbed his thumb over chapped lips and applied a bit of pressure, his other hand cool and soft on Thor's cheek. Comforting, in its own right. He half expected a smack to follow up the tenderness. "Thor. Is the possibility of failure so prominent in your thoughts that they tarnish your every waking moment by my side?"

"Is that what you believe?" It was the truth, despite his attempts to ignore these feelings. Thor knew it, and clearly Loki did too. There was little that escaped him. "Loki.." covering the chilled hand with his own, he gazed down into viridian orbs and stroked the bloodlines marked into Loki's skin, tracing them till they vanished beneath the warm green wool of his cloak. "You see too much."

"Am I at fault because you choose to hide your secrets in plain sight, just as you adorn your sleeve with your beating heart? Only a fool could be blind to them, Thor, and I am no fool." The Jotun turned away and continued their traipse through the building snow. Unlike Thor, he appeared to float across the pearlescent surface, just as he had that night on the lake, with all of Asgard's stars glittering above his head. "If you didn't want me to see, then keep your silence and wear a mask." He looked back over his shoulder; the rising moon slashed his cheekbones with pearl and streaking raven colored locks with diamond ribbon. "But I must warn you. Such talents are only becoming to those who embrace then with willingness and open arms."

Which Thor could never do. He was a warrior, bred for battle with the power of thunder churning through his veins. He was meant to charge and fight with bellowing roars, compassion his rare mistress at arms, more suited to matters of the throne. And those whom he trusted with all his heart. "I fear I would make a poor student." Patient steps carried him to Loki's side. Thor slung his arm around the prince's shoulders and breathed in the scent of fur and the natural musk that was Loki, fragrant like the earth and oddly spicy. "I appreciate you as you are. Can you not extend the same courtesy?"

"You think I don't?" Laughter wisped through the night air. "All seeing Thor. When will you learn? If I found fault with what you are, then why would I help you? Why would I bring you here, knowing you seek to prove that which is already acknowledged?" Loki pressed into him as they walked, the curve of his horns arching over Thor's shoulder. He was thankful for their heights being just so that this was possible, lest he be gored by one of them. They had rather sharp tips. "Fear not. You'll succeed, just as you always do. And when the witch's blood bathes the ground at my feet, you'll have your reward, and I mine."

The sheer simplicity of his claims was in that Loki spoke them with certainty. He didn't question that Thor would succeed, nor did he appear to mind that he'd been roped into these plans with his understanding of magic as a useful tool. Thor wondered, frowning at his smaller companion. "Why do you help me, Loki? You think this is a fool's mission, do you not?"

"I think it's pointless, since I've already forgiven you. But that's the point. You're arrogant, and stubborn. You'll never acquiesce because you believe you have something to prove, and trying to change your mind would only be a waste of my time." The snow grew deeper, reaching Thor's knees, and Loki's inner calves. It made their every step more difficult. Treading more carefully, for apparently even he was affected, Loki held his arm and offered a smile that was achingly beautiful. He looked….happy. "Dissuading you is fruitless, so I decided to offer my assistance instead. The sooner you succeed and bring me the witch's head, the sooner we may return to Asgard, your pride assuaged."

That was why he offered his help. That was why Loki walked with him now, and went along with a scheme Thor knew was ludicrous. The mockery didn't change the real intent behind his words. Loki only helped him because he wanted to, and because…he cared. Beaming, Thor ignored the sudden halt in his step and enfolded the cold figure more securely in his arms, resting his chin atop a glistening mound of snow speckled hair, lips finding the base of a ebony horn. "Thank you, Loki. I promise, when the witch is slayed all that she possesses will be yours. You have my word. Your pleasure is the only reward I need." Faith renewed, he had no choice but to realize his own potential and see that the Jotun was right. He'd triumph, all would be well. What other choice was there?

"If pleasure is what you want, then you'll have it. More than you can ever handle." Turning into Thor's kisses with a lazy smile, Loki swept a branch of pine out of the way and pointed past the mists and gloom, where the silhouette of a fortress of stone and ancient planks was just barely visible. It looked older than Asgard itself, roughly hewn from the mountain with torches flanking the walls and glowing like far away beacons, calling to them. And the entire area screamed with power. Thor felt the hairs on his arm stand to attention, much like when he used Mjolnir to call forth lightning and storms. He wondered what Loki could sense, glimpsing magic cusped in his sapphire palms. "I believe we've found your witch," Loki hummed. Excitement glowed in his eyes, inviting and crashing like crimson waves. The look stirred something within Thor and built his own anticipation to glorious heights, the fingers of his free hand stirring against Mjolnir's handle.

"Lets not waste any time then." He pressed a kiss to Loki's brow and lead the way, giving no more thought to any other possibility than success and glory. He'd triumph. That much was certain.


	3. Chapter 3

_Part three! This is where shit's gonna hit the fan. We're talking Thor being a badass, Loki being his usual tricky self, and Jadis….ah Jadis. She's finally going to be introduced! Yup. Albeit, it's my interpretation of her, and I've never written a Chronicles of Narnia fic before, but I tried my best! Here's hoping you guys enjoy it. ;) Also, I should make a point. This is set before the whole shebang where Jadis attempts to take over Narnia and freezes it with the 100 year winter. It's not necessarily important to this story, but you should keep that in mind when you get to a certain part. Heheh. _

**Disclaimer: Marvel and its characters aren't mine. The same applies to Chronicles of Narnia. **

Perhaps things weren't meant to go smoothly. That was certainly what Thor was beginning to think, since they were currently being prodded what looked like a throne room by painful looking spears, held in the grasps of beasts he swore were giant boars, yet…they talked. In fact, since being captured outside the castle walls, he'd discovered that nearly all of the wild animals that roamed these mountains talked. It was one of the strangest things he'd ever come across in his travels. Thor had little time to marvel over this oddity though, seeing as how they were in a predicament of sorts. With their capture, both he and Loki had been bound in manacles with thick ropes of chain between them. He could break these with ease, if he wanted to, and Loki's magic was capable of reducing the chains to a strength reminiscent of wet paper. Even that wasn't necessary; his ice alone could cause irreparable damage to the metal. Yet neither of them made a move.

They stood side by side in the throne room, watched from the corners by two of the horned guards who had originally captured them. Hardly a threat, Thor scoffed. He could take them down all by himself. Loki was also more than capable of holding his own. Still, both of them stood their ground and remained, each for his own reasons. Thor personally had every intention of taking advantage of the situation. Capture or not, he was in a prime position to bring his offer for battle against the witch. Now that she'd imprisoned a Prince of Asgard, Thor had every right to slaughter her and take her possessions as recompense. As for Loki…..he suspected the trickster was merely curious about the witch, and what magic she wielded.

"The mark of a good practitioner is the ability to lie in wait. Patience, Thor." Loki's whisper carried to his ears. Thor turned his head and stared down at the Jotun with a half smile, though it grew distressed at the corners with the sight of proud Loki without his cloak or daggers, heavy manacles weighing down his slender wrists. The guards had stripped him of all possessions upon capture with callous, pawing hands, for which Thor had almost slaughtered them. No one touched his consort. But without risking his entire plan, he had no choice but to allow it and swear to himself that he'd seek vengeance upon them all when he was through with the witch. Loki himself hadn't put up a fight, undoubtedly for the same reasons. Nevertheless, it still gave Thor grief to see his beloved so…naked. He wouldn't freeze without his cloak, and he had magic still to use as weapon and shield. That made the sting no less difficult to bear.

"Are you well?" Ignoring the blatant growls of the guards across the room, Thor brushed his hand over Loki's shoulder and neck, gathering his long hair in a loose fist. It wasn't the tenderness that he desired. He wanted nothing more than to hold Loki close and protect him as much as he could. Or rather, as much as would be allowed. The prince was stubborn about those sort of things. "Loki? Answer me. Are you-"

A scolding gaze snapped towards his handsome face, radiating a whole cornucopia of emotions Thor had no chance of picking apart. He wasn't that adept at reading Loki. In time, perhaps, but they were mysteries for now, save for two that he was well familiar with. Having seen these emotions before, Thor recognized them well. Malice. Mischief. Twins at arms that survived well without the other, but had been brought forth now to writhe within their Jotun master. It was a frightening sight, and he wondered, was this wrath to turn upon him? He bent down to kiss Loki's temple, praying it wasn't so. "Loki, forgive me. I shouldn't have brought you here. This is my doing." Tan fingers rasped through his hair, beseeching, slow. "I swear, you'll have vengeance for what these monsters have done."

"And what have they done, Thor, other than treat us as the enemies that we are?" The slabs of ruby glass that were Loki's eyes appeared to light up from within, glowing with a new vitality that had Thor staring back, confused. "You believe I'm angry with you," he hummed, clasping the hand wrapped in his silky locks and kissing the flat of its palm. "You're a fool. I have nothing to be angry for. In fact, why are you not bouncing with joy? Is this not what you wanted?" Thor's confusion grew, and Loki sighed with an exasperated sort of fondness. "Look where we are. The witch's castle, just as you planned."

"As her prisoners," Thor amended. "That was not my intention, Loki. We weren't supposed to be captured. I meant to storm her fortress as a warrior and demand she do battle. If she refused, I'd have slaughtered her on sight. But this? No. This is a slight against the House of Odin. Against us both. Which I might have forgiven, had they not treated you thusly." He rattled the chains, giving cuffed blue wrists a pointed glare. "The sight of you in bondage is not a pleasant one, and those animals dared to lay hands on you. For that, I would let them feel the weight of Mjolnir when I crash her through their skulls." Had his own armor and Mjolnir not been tuned to his own inner magic, Thor's skin might have been stripped naked to the chilling air as well. A small comfort, since Loki was still half naked beside him, dressed only in his emerald colored loincloth. They had stripped Loki of all else; his finery, the jewels and silver once threading his raven hair. Even the vambraces he so coveted. Though he didn't appear too distressed by this loss, when Thor looked close enough and saw the grin hiding within the sharp curve of his lips. "Loki? You aren't bothered by this?"

Loki smirked, genuinely and without care. "No. I promised to help you achieve your little quest, and here we are. Just where you need to be. What of it if we're chained and bound, and I stripped of a few measly trinkets? I have more than enough jewels in your treasury of a realm, and you'll have bounty aplenty once you defeat the witch and take all she possesses for your own."

"Nay, for you. I swore that all she owns will be yours."

"Mm. So you did. Though I've little use for baubles and gold, or whatever else she might be hoarding in these icy halls. One marginally useful gift would suffice." Cocking a dark brow, he angled his body into the warmth of Thor's and his arms, cheek resting on the flat planes of his silver colored armor. "I've told you this, and still you believe that a few uncomfortable touches and some chains would bother me? Don't be daft, you bigheaded fool. These trappings are nothing to either of us. Were I inclined, I'd show those overgrown cows in the corner just how pathetic their attempts really are."

Damn him to Hel for it, but Thor couldn't resist a small laugh at the Jotun's expense. "That hardly seems fair. Your horns are far more impressive than theirs, and yet you call them cows?" He stroked one of the glossy appendages, following it back up the shaft where it curved naturally into Loki's brow, chuckling harder at the affronted, though amused, expression he shot his way.

"Why Thor, is that a jest I hear? I think the cold has begun to addle your senses. Though I must admit, you've picked a wonderful time to display this odd sense of humor." He gestured to the stone wall farthest from them, and the archway at its very center, detailed with pillars and dripping sconces. Thor wasn't entirely certain what Loki meant him to see or hear, until he quieted and focused his attentions, electricity warily thrumming within his veins. There was something coming. He could feel it. An oppressing wave of power was pushing against his skin, and it threatened to stifle him, choke the very air from his lungs while it whipped around its mistress like a living, breathing entity. The stench of misery was upon it, and a rotten sweetness that reminded Thor of apples left for too long under a summer sun. "Magic," Loki spoke under his breath, staring intently at the blackness. "You aren't a sorcerer, or a mage, so you can't feel it like I do. But you do sense something, don't you?"

"….Aye. It's a foul presence." And it was coming right towards them, until both their eyes were riveted on the column flanked gloom without flinching, Thor's fingers curling deliberately around a blue forearm to urge the prince even more closely against his side. When it was but a half dozen feet away, bowed his head and growled into Loki's ear. "Leave her to me."

"But of course. How many times must I say it? This is your scheme Thor, not mine." Loki's smile was cunning as a serpent, velvety smooth and dripping with saccharine sweetness. "I've no interest in fighting today."

The careful phrasing had Thor's hackles rising. His trickster side was showing again. Loki was planning something, whether it was to interfere, or concoct a twisted plan of his own. He didn't know. Still, he'd sworn to keep out of the battle, and that was all Thor could ask from him, when he owed his ongoing success to the sly rogue. "Loki-" the rotten stink grew stronger and engulfed him fully, tangling in his hair and clothes. It took all his willpower not to gag, or choke, Mjolnir vibrating angrily against his hip and making his fingers tighten around the leather wrapped handle. This was it. Thor prepared himself, stubborn and proud as he faced the archway with its plunging shadows and bleak aura, from which came a glimpse of steel and pearl, long white fingers clutching a wrought iron sword. And a voice, wrathful and elegant, with no drop of feeling or tender emotion.

"_Who dares to tread through my home uninvited?" _


End file.
